She was expecting him to retreat, to be offended or deterred or discouraged, and just straighten his body and leave without sparing her a glance. But whether she wanted him to and dreaded that he would was irrelevant.
“Mm,” he growled.
That sound almost undid her. Her fists crumpled in her nightgown so she could keep her raging body in check.
“I don’t believe you, Arabella,” he purred.
His hand raised to lift her chin up to him. When her eyes met his, she knew that this battle was lost. There was no way her eyes could hide how her body was reacting to him.
His look traveled from her eyes to her lips and back to her with a deep look.
“Now,” he said firmly. “Let me hear you. What is it that you crave? This is, after all, our wedding night.”
Her mouth fell open at his command, his green eyes smothering and deep, the heat of his body making her sizzle.
“Tell me, Your Grace,” his voice low and breathy, “do you wish our marriage to remain in name only?”
His thumb shifted slightly beneath her chin. Then he leaned closer still, until she could feel the warmth of his breath against her cheek.
“Or do you wish for it to be… complete?”
“No!”
CHAPTER 15
Trembling Fire
No.
The moment that word left her lips, the Duke froze. All of his teasing, his bantering, and his taunting died off his body as if someone had submerged him in cold water.
Oh, he wanted Arabella like he rarely wanted anything in his life. Not just tonight. He had to be honest with himself at this hour, his first night as a married man. He had wanted her ever since that night that he drove her away from his study. But wanting one thing was not the same as being permitted to take.
He used the same hands that were keeping her encased to push away. He took one big, deep breath as he straightened his body. He spared her dignity by not looking at her, now fully realizing the state she was in. And it was not just her dignity.
It was his restraint. He was fully aware now that Arabella was wearing only a nightgown and a half-discarded robe. He had felt her body all the times he came close, that full, voluptuous body of hers. She was seductive without even trying; no amount of modest clothing was able to hide the curves of her body. And now, to see her like this, hair down, her nightgown almost transparent at the firelight…
“I see,” is all he said after straightening his well-pressed clothes.
He devoted himself to the task as if it were of utmost importance. And in reality, it was. If he didn’t manage to distract himself, he would fall on Arabella like the savage everyone claims him to be.
“I shall leave you to retire, Your Grace,” he said and bowed slightly.
She gasped audibly, and Gerald didn’t know if it was from relief or shock that he could act decently.
“Rest assured,” he said in as calm a tone as he could muster, “I will not touch you. I would like for you to feel safe in the house.”
He dared a look down at her. He needed to be sure that Arabella realized that he would never force her to sleep with him, that she was not a mere puppet for his satisfaction or his perpetuation of his line. He was enough of a villain when he barged into her paternal home and demanded that he marry one of the daughters. He would not allow himself to stoop so low.
Arabella didn’t want to be here. A lady as popular as her, even with her little means, would have surely found a husband that would be…
Her blue eyes looked up at him in a mixture of feelings he couldn’t decipher. Perhaps because the tempestuous swell of her eyes couldn’t focus on one either. He was reassured that leaving was the correct course of action. He was making her feel uneasy, and she had quite a long day to deal with him as well.
“Have a good rest, Your Grace,” he said and bowed formally.
“Your Grace,” Arabella protested, and she stood up.
He turned to her with a deep frown. Arabella seemed to have decided on an emotion, or rather an open combination of two emotions: disbelief and anger.
